Guy of the Kutolah
by gentleness28
Summary: [One-Shot] Guy can't ride or shoot arrows like the rest of his tribe, so what's a guy to do?


Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story except maybe Guy's mom.  
  
I don't know if this is what Guy really went through (because the game tells me...OK it does tell me a little bit) but I wanted to know why Guy uses a sword instead of a bow. So I wrote this story. Go figure. :)  
  
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Guy glared at the target. He would get it one of these days. He took a deep breath and lifted his bow. It had never been comfortable in his hands—the wood was too smooth, it was too bulky, Guy could name everything that he disliked about bows, but it would take too long. However, he was of the Kutolah tribe, and they were all good with bows, right? Guy snorted, tossing his long black braid over his shoulder. Sure. Whatever. He knew what everybody said about him behind his back, and sometimes right in front of him.  
  
'I think there's something wrong with him...' Guy clenched the bow harder than he was supposed to.  
  
'The horses don't get along with him, and they're good judges of character...' Guy struggled to string an arrow.  
  
'Oh Lena, I'm so sorry about your son...' Guy pulled the bow's string back a whole lot harder than was safe.  
  
'You should do the Kutolah tribe a favor and just go away...' Guy let the arrow fly. It totally missed the target altogether, instead lodging in one of the trees right behind it.  
  
Maybe they're right, he thought, as he ran to go get his arrow back. It was all that stupid gray horse's fault! As a little toddler, Guy had been fascinated with horses—as all good Kutolah tribe children were—probably more fascinated than he should have been. He could still remember that tantalizing tail, swishing back and forth, and his hand reaching up to pull it. He could still remember his fear as the horse's cries hurt his toddler ears and the hooves came close to ending his life. He still broke into a sweat whenever he heard the neighs of horses.  
  
"Stupid horse," Guy mumbled over and over again as he strived to get his arrow out of the darn tree.  
  
"Guy? What are you doing out here?" His mother, Lena, had come up behind him without him noticing.  
  
"N-Nothing mother," stammered Guy, trying to hide the arrow stuck in the tree.  
  
Guy's mother knew him better than that.  
  
"Guy," she warned, "What's behind your back?"  
  
Guy gulped. He knew better than to disobey his mother when she was in this kind of mood. Reluctantly, he stepped to the side to reveal his arrow.  
  
Lena's face fell. Then...  
  
"Guy? Please tell me this was your target."  
  
His mother's disappointment hurt Guy more than he would let her know. He longed for her to be proud of him, like the day he shot his first arrow. She had been so happy back then, thinking that his aim would improve with age. It hadn't.  
  
"I'm sorry mother. It's not the target."  
  
"Oh," her voice resounding with distress. "I'm sure you'll get it next time."  
  
"Thanks mother, but I'm not so sure there WILL be a next time."  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked sharply, a note of alarm in her voice.  
  
Guy slid down to the ground, which felt nice and solid—unlike a horse. He gave an involuntary shudder. He then leaned against the tree, the rough bark making him feel more secure, and stared up at his mother.  
  
"Mother." Lena looked away, afraid of what Guy was going to say.  
  
"Mother." Guy repeated. "You know that I can't shoot a bow well at all, and you know that I can't abide horses. So where is my place here among the Kutolah? What can I do? Mother..." Guy stood up. "I can't be a Kutolah anymore."  
  
Lena swung back to face her son, her eyes blazing.  
  
"Guy! You can't mean that! You can't! Think of what you're saying! To leave your tribe...it's—"  
  
"Madness?" Guy asked quietly.  
  
Lena stared at her son in disbelief.  
  
Guy suddenly took his mother's hands and asked her to follow him. She was too shocked to do otherwise.  
  
He led her to a grove in the forest where everything was peaceful and dark. It was a nice place to rest, but rest was the last thing on his mind. Instead of talking about his idea—as Lena assumed he would—he got down on his hands and knees and started digging. My son has gone mad, Lena thought, I never should have pushed his archery lessons so hard.  
  
Finally Guy stopped digging and pulled an oblong wooden box from out of the ground. It was well-worn from being in the ground for long periods of time, but Lena could still recognize it.  
  
"That's your treasure box your father and I gave to you when you were little. We told you to put all of your most valuable possessions in there." Lena stared at it, questions racing through her mind.  
  
"But Guy, what is it doing here?"  
  
"Mother. Open it. I want you to be the first one to know my plan." He handed the treasure box over to her.  
  
"What? Guy, what are you talking about?"  
  
"Please mother. Just open it." She did. With trembling hands, Lena opened the treasure box...and immediately dropped it as if it stung her hand.  
  
Guy flung himself to the ground to catch whatever had fallen out of the box. It was a sword. A sword! The one weapon that the Kutolah tribe refrained from using most of all.  
  
"Guy? Why? Why would you use a sword, and...where did you get it in the first place?!" Lena had to sit down.  
  
Guy sat down as well, right next to Lena. He put his hand on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort, but Lena flat refused to be comforted. She kept giving the sword dirty looks, and refused to look at Guy.  
  
Guy was hurt. He thought that of all people, his mother would understand. He just couldn't understand why his tribe never really used swords. He ran his fingers over the smooth metal, absolutely loving everything about his sword. He could imagine himself as a swordmaster, hacking through anybody and anything that got into his way. He basked in the glory of his dream until his mother broke the silence.  
  
"Where...where will you go? I don't want to lose you, but I can't leave. Oh, Guy! A sword! Of all things—"  
  
"Mother," Guy interrupted, "I want you to understand. I can take care of myself. Trust me. I went to the Silver Wolf, Dayan, and he said I had a fine sword arm. HE believes I can make something of myself with this sword." Guy turned to his mother.  
  
"Can't you believe in me?"  
  
Lena took a good look at her son. For the first time in his life, he looked confidant and prepared and...happy.  
  
"You've been thinking about this for a long time haven't you?" she asked.  
  
Guy nodded  
  
Lena sighed. "I guess I won't be able to dissuade you, but listen to your mother for one last time will you?"  
  
Guy smiled. "Of course mother. Thank you for understanding why I have to go." Lena shook her head.  
  
"No. I'll never understand why you have to go, but I know your heart is set. A mother can never understand why her child leaves, but still they leave. That is the way of the world. I just hoped you would be an exception."  
  
Guy hugged his mother one last time, and then set out on his journey.  
  
Lena stared after him as he walked away, and continued to gaze long after she had lost sight of him.  
  
"Good luck, Guy of the Kutolah."  
  
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